


Happy Birthday, Blair

by TW Lewis (gardendoor)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-08
Updated: 2004-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardendoor/pseuds/TW%20Lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little drabble about birthday traditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Blair

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Petfly owns them. This one's for my mom.

Jim growled as he marched upstairs to the loft, ready to give Sandburg a piece of his mind. When the academy instructor had called him to ask, oh-so-solicitously, if Sandburg was feeling any better, Jim had been hard-pressed not to crush the phone. Damn it, after all the strings he and Simon had pulled to get the kid into the academy, he should know better than to play hookey! And yes, Jim was not an idiot, he knew what day it was, but they already had plans to go out for dinner to a swanky restaurant; it wasn’t as though Sandburg’s 30th was going to pass unremarked. He didn’t need to piss off his instructors just so he could stay home and listen to tribal music, which, from the sound of it, was exactly what he was doing.

As Jim neared the top of the stairs, the phone rang, and Blair snapped off the music and clattered over to snatch up the phone before it rang again.

“Hello?” he said, and the twinge of nerves in his voice made Jim automatically extend his hearing to listen to the other side of the conversation.

 _//10:21 exactly, sweetheart. Happy birthday.//_

Blair’s breath whooshed out in a happy rush. “Thanks, Mom. I’m ... I’m glad you called.”

 _//Blair, I will *always* call. Even if you are joining the pigs.//_ But there was a gentle pleasure in her voice as she said, in a long-practiced voice, _//So. My parents had sent me to a ward for wayward girls, and there was a couple all picked out to take you when you were born, the Collinses, and they were waiting in the next room. And here I was, sixteen years old, with my feet in the stirrups, screaming my lungs out. You have no idea how helpless a pregnant girl feels, Blair; you can’t even stand up without help, you have no rights, no say in what happens to you. You’re a thing. I was hurting and so frightened, but I had flown into a rage at the thought of drugs; I was scared that they wanted to put me to sleep forever, after locking me away for the past few months. The pain was indescribable, but it only lasted three hours; you were in such a hurry to get here. And then I looked into your sweet, squashed little face for the first time, and I started to cry. And I said, “He’s the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”//_

Blair laughed at that, his throat catching a little.

 _//And the doctor said, and I remember this very clearly, “A lot of babies have those startling blue eyes. They’ll change in a couple of weeks.” But yours didn’t, Blair, every time I look in your eyes they’re as clear and bright as the day you were born.//_

“And you said, ‘Can I be alone with him for just a minute? Just to say goodbye?’” said Blair.

 _//And they said yes, but the doctor warned me not to nurse you, because it would make me bond with you. But it was too late for that. I waited until they all left the room, and then I stood up with you in my arms. It was the worst, most wrenching pain, almost as bad as labor, and I was scared to look down, scared that I had torn the episiotomy stitches open or broken something inside and was bleeding out. But I shuffled to the little bathroom and stood on the toilet, and I squirmed out the window with you in the crook of my arm. I knew they’d search the grounds, so even though it hurt, I ran flat out to the road and flagged down a truck that was coming towards me. I stood right in front of it until it stopped, and the driver yelled that I was crazy, and told me to go back wherever I came from, but I begged him, I said, “They’ll take my baby away, please don’t make me go back there.” And the guards were rushing down the hill, and the trucker said, “Get in.” He drove off as fast as he could, and I curled up in the seat in my hospital gown and cried and trembled, but you weren’t scared at all. You just closed your eyes and smacked your lips, and I put you inside my gown and you knew exactly what to do, you nursed like a champ. And that was when I knew it was all going to be okay, that I could be a mommy even though I didn’t know what to do, because as long as I loved you and listened to you, you would teach me what you needed. So the trucker gave us some spare clothes he kept for long drives, and a little money, dropped me off at the commune, and told me to call him if I needed help.//_

“Uncle Mike,” said Blair happily.

 _//Yes, sweetie. So I want you to remember, I never wanted to be pregnant, but from the first moment I saw you, I loved you--//_ Her voice shook with emotion, _//I loved you with all my heart, and I could never, will never, let you go or leave you behind.//_

They were both silent for a while, and then Blair said, “Thanks, Mom. I really needed to hear it this year.”

 _//Same time next year?//_

“It’s a date.”

 _//I’m off to Tibet for a while; I’ll call you in two weeks? Happy birthday, Blair. I love you.//_

“Love you too, Mom.”

Jim gave Blair a minute to collect himself before coming up the stairs the rest of the way.

“Jim!” Blair jumped up. “What’re you doing home?”

“You’re looking pretty healthy for a sick man,” said Jim.

“Aw man, they called you? What is this, third grade?”

Jim shook his head. “Give me the phone.” He dialed the number for the academy, ignoring Blair’s vehement protests, and shushed the younger man when it began to ring. “Jim Ellison, you called me about Blair Sandburg earlier? Yeah, he’s really sick, throwing up. Food poisoning, I think. Yeah, I’ll take care of it. Right. Bye.” He hung up and smiled at his disbelieving partner. “No point in getting flak from them, but that still doesn’t mean I’m letting you slack off, birthday boy. Get your ass down to the truck, we’ll go to the gym and I’ll show you some Ranger techniques to put your self-defense instructor flat on his back, okay?”

Blair blinked in shock for a moment before finally managing, “Sure, man, thanks!”

Jim watched his friend dash ahead of him and smiled, saying under his breath, “I love you, buddy. And no matter how bad things get, I could never, will never, let you go or leave you behind.”

End.


End file.
